


always listen to your mother

by chameleontattoos



Category: Pentagon (Korean Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-22 10:10:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11965215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chameleontattoos/pseuds/chameleontattoos
Summary: wooseok should really get a mat for his bathtub.a "fell over in the shower" au





	always listen to your mother

When someone knocked on Wooseok’s door at 10:45 in the morning on a Tuesday, it was always one of his friends. For that reason, he had no qualms about answering it, despite the fact that he was super-duper naked from the waist up.

He should’ve had qualms. Qualms would have saved him from the situation he was unexpectedly in, the situation being that his beautiful Japanese neighbour was standing in the hallway in sweaty workout gear sans shoes, bundle of clothes tucked under one arm, asking Wooseok if he could please have a lend of Wooseok’s bathroom.

Yuto and Wooseok were hardly strangers. They were friendly with each other, for sure. But they weren’t _friends_. Definitely more acquaintances. They were at a level where they could laugh at the occasional language barrier when they bumped into each other in the mailroom, but Wooseok could count the number of times they’d asked each other for a favour on the fingers of one hand. Half of one hand, even.

Also, Yuto was _very_ pretty. It was intimidating.

Of all the days that he could’ve chosen to not follow the Golden Rule. Never answer the door in just your ratty old high school basketball shorts. His mother would be so disappointed.

“My shower’s broken.” Yuto explained, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish expression on his face. “I was hoping I could use yours.”

Wooseok wasn’t sure how to respond. He’d seen too much porn in his lifetime to be able to process the request with a clear head.

Because that was always how they started. The beautiful man who lived a few doors down had to borrow the protagonist’s shower urgently. Some irrelevant plot stuff happened. And then suddenly the protagonist was having his dick sucked by a hot guy in his own bathroom. “Uh…”

Yuto must have mistaken Wooseok’s hesitance for a denial, because he started trying to convince him to agree. “It’s just this one time, I swear. The repair guy is supposed to come this afternoon, but I have a thing I have to go to before he gets here, and I need to not smell like I was shat on by a –”

Wooseok waved frantic hands in front of his face, cutting off the panicky flood of words. He didn’t want to know the specific details of what his hot neighbour’s after-gym sweaty grossness smelled like. At least the phrasing (and the panicking) made it feel less like Wooseok had somehow found his way into a pocket-sized alternate universe where unrealistic pornographic videography became reality. “Stop! Jesus, just…”

He glanced guiltily over his shoulder at the pile of empty takeaway boxes on the coffee table. And the dirty dishes in the sink.

And the adult magazines stacked up on the coffee table. Was the one for furries that Hyojong had given him as a joke still on the top?

His friends were going to have a field day over this. The mockery would never end.

Lord save his poor soul.

He sighed, moving backwards out of Yuto’s way. “Come on in, I guess.” He said resignedly, grabbing his zip up hoodie from the hook near the door and shrugging it on.

His mother didn’t raise a complete slob. _Always wear a shirt when you have guests in your home,_ she used to say. A hoodie wasn’t a shirt, but it was in the shirt category, so it was good enough. Besides, Yuto was in gross sweaty workout-wear. According to Wooseok’s mother’s etiquette rules, that was on a level with not being fully clothed.

Yuto stepped over the threshold with a bright smile, adjusting the pile of clothes against his hip. “Thanks, man. I’ll be quick, promise.”

Wooseok wanted to bottle that smile and save it for a rainy day. Stupidly beautiful neighbours shouldn’t be allowed to smile like that.

Squashing that thought – and all the other less safe for work thoughts – he managed a tight nod and pointed in the direction of the bathroom. “Shower’s that way.” He squeaked.

Flashing another smile, Yuto disappeared down the hall.

As soon as the bathroom door clicked shut, Wooseok vaulted over the couch and slapped _Kitty_ off the stack, already planning the nasty things he would say to dear old Hyojong when he saw him next.

Honestly, he’d called Hwitaek’s fox ears cute _one_ time. _One time._

If anyone was a furry, it was Hwitaek. He was the one with the fox ear headband. That he bought. Because he _wanted_ it.

He muttered curses under his breath, kicking the magazine under the couch. Hyojong was the worst.

Wooseok was just pulling his bowl of leftover spaghetti out of the microwave – carefully, with his sleeves pulled down over his hands, because the bowl was hot, and he didn’t want to scare himself by touching piping hot ceramic and end up dropping it and have to clean bolognaise sauce off the kitchen tiles again – when there was a loud thump from the bathroom, followed by a clattering crash and an “Ow, _fuck_.”

Wooseok craned his neck like it would give help him see through the wall between the kitchen and the bathroom. “Everything… alright in there?”

There was a long pause.

“No.”

Yuto’s voice sounded kind of echo-ey, like he was talking into a bucket.

Setting the spaghetti carefully on the kitchen counter, Wooseok took a few tentative steps in the direction of the bathroom. “Did you drop the shampoo on your foot or something?”

“…No.”

“The body wash?” Wooseok asked. That was a big bottle. It could do a lot of damage in inexperienced hands.

“ _No_.” That time the response was sharper.

Wooseok was beginning to feel like something had gone terribly wrong. He dawdled outside the bathroom door for a minute, gathering the courage to knock.

“It’s me,” he said lamely.

“I figured.” Yuto replied. There was a sigh. “Look, just – you can come in, but… eyes up.”

Eyes… what? “Why?”

“Wooseok, if you don’t get your ass in here right now I swear to God –”

“ _Chill_. Jesus.” He wasn’t sure if he was talking to himself or to Yuto at this point. “Okay, I’m gonna. Open the door now.”

Yuto just grunted. There was a quiet _ah, fuck._

He swung the door open, making sure to keep his eyes averted from the shower.

Not that he needed to. The only part of Yuto’s body that he could actually _see_ was his head. The rest of him was, for some reason, hidden by the edge of the bathtub.

That explained the echo – Yuto’s voice, bouncing off the inside.

“Did you decide to take a bath instead?” He asked.

But, no, that couldn’t be right. The shower was still running.

Why was the shower still running?

“Oh, yeah, totally. I invited you in here to watch me splash around like a four-year-old.” Yuto said, straight-faced.

“Really?” Wooseok was all for returning to childish forms of entertainment, but a grown man watching another grown man play in a tub with rubber duckies was a bit much.

Yuto gave him a look so unimpressed that Wooseok felt a small piece of his soul shrivel up and die. “No, I slipped, jackass.”

That made more sense.

“I hurt my back.” Yuto continued. “And I hit my head pretty good. I can’t get up. Not by myself, anyway.”

“You need my help to get out of the bath.” Wooseok said flatly.

“Yup.”

“But you’re naked.” He frowned. That was definitely outside the bounds of the Acquaintance Code.

“Did you expect me to have a shower in my gym gear?”

This was the universe paying him back for thinking about porn, wasn’t it.

Wooseok inched closer to the tub, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the wall. He was trying very hard not to think about one, the naked fresh air penis in front of him, and two, how heavy Yuto was going to be.

He had to be at least five ten. Five foot ten of organs, and bones, and muscles, all of which were pretty weighty, by Wooseok’s reckoning, and all of which Wooseok would probably have to mostly deadlift. It’d be a miracle if he could get through the ordeal without hurting _himself._

Well, no time like the present.

Wooseok went to grab one of Yuto’s arms but thought better of it at the last second, pulling back just short of touching his wet skin. “Um.”

“What now?” Yuto asked.

Wooseok felt his ears heat up.   He fluttered his hands around uncertainly. “It’s just – I don’t –”

“ _What_ , Wooseok?”

“I dunno where to put my hands, okay?!” Wooseok hissed, squeezing his eyes shut. The rest of his face was aflame now. He could feel the warmth in his cheeks.

“Anywhere’s fine.” Yuto said dismissively. Either he didn’t realise Wooseok was having a crisis or he didn’t care. “Just get me up.”

Anywhere. That was a very… broad area. ‘Anywhere’ was very broad.

“Anywhere.” Wooseok repeated, clearing his throat. “Anywhere. Okay.”

He opened one eye enough to squint out of it. Yuto – the absolute piece of shit – was barely holding back a smile. “Stay out of the danger zone, kiddo.”

Wooseok snorted. “Aren’t you, like, barely a week older than me?” He asked, leaning in to gently slide one arm behind Yuto’s back. Behind the back was a safe bet.

Yuto’s lips thinned as Wooseok carefully pulled him into a sitting position. He was clearly in a lot of pain.

“I’m sorry.” Wooseok said. He felt responsible for Yuto’s having been hurt, and guilty.

“S’fine.” Yuto wheezed. He gripped Wooseok’s shoulder hard, trying to pull himself up. “S’not your – _fuck._ ” His face drained of all colour, and he let go with a gasp.

“Easy, easy.” Wooseok murmured. “Just, I dunno. Brace, or something.” He’d never had to singlehandedly pull someone with a back injury and probable concussion out of a wet bathtub before. He was making guesses. But he had the feeling people with back injuries were supposed to let other people do the work.

It took the better part of fifteen minutes, but Yuto was eventually rescued from the bathtub. Leaning heavily against Wooseok, he looked down at what was supposed to be his outfit for lunch with his parents. “There’s no way I’ll be able to get into those pants without breaking my spine.”

Wooseok understood that pain all too well. “Skinny jeans?”

Yuto _mm_ ed.

“Well.” Wooseok thought for a moment. “I probably have shorts?”

Yuto gave him a withering sidelong look. “I can’t have lunch with my parents in shorts.”

Wooseok flicked his forehead with the hand that wasn’t wrapped around his waist. _Lightly_ , because Yuto definitely had a concussion, and Wooseok didn’t know if a hard flick to the forehead would make it worse. “If you think I’m gonna let you go party with your parentals with a fucked up back, you’re an idiot. I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“It’s not partying, it’s lunch.” Yuto protested. He continued to protest, even as he let Wooseok cart him back out to the living room and deposit him on the couch.

“Partying, lunch. Same difference.” Wooseok responded. “I’m gonna go find you some clothes.”

Yuto braced his elbows against the back of the couch, clearly trying to stand. “That’s not necessary.”

“If your stupid ass moves off that cushion, I’ll kick it into tomorrow.” Wooseok warned him. “I’m serious.”

“Please.” Yuto scoffed, disbelieving. “You’re a noodle.” But he stopped wiggling. Set point, Wooseok.

 

And so it was that Wooseok found himself in the district hospital general waiting room at 11:30am on a Tuesday, sitting next to his hot neighbour who’d ate shit in Wooseok’s shower and probably fucked a disc in his spine or something.

This was nothing like what happened in porn.

Not that he’d been thinking about porn.

It suddenly occurred to him that Yuto could sue him for damages. Probably. Or at least make him pay for disc-correcting laser robots back surgery.

Either way, it would damage his bank account.

He opened his mouth in an attempt to broach the subject delicately. Get off on the right foot.

What came out was, “Please don’t sue me.”

Which was, in all fairness, pretty reasonable phrasing.

Yuto turned (carefully, minding his sore back) to stare at him like he’d spontaneously grown a second set of eyes. “Why would you say that?”

Wooseok shrugged, suddenly finding it hard to look Yuto in the eye. He looked up at the television instead. Why did hospital waiting room televisions always have such bad displays? The image was all snowy around the edges. “I dunno, just… it was my shower. You could. If you wanted, I mean.”

“Wooseok.” There was an amused lilt to Yuto’s voice. “It was an accident. It’s not like you greased the tub to _make_ me fall over.”

“People sue over accidents!” Wooseok insisted. “Negligence, or something.”

“The people who sue over genuine accidents are assholes.” Yuto retorted. “Do I seem like an asshole to you?”

“I mean, no, but –”

“I’m _not_ gonna sue you, man. It’s fine.”

“Okay.” Wooseok said awkwardly.

Silence fell over their corner of the room. Yuto didn’t seem to mind it, but it went on for long enough that Wooseok started feeling fidgety. Long silences weren’t his favourite thing in the world.

He debated texting one of his friends. Hyojong’s boss let him have his phone out at his desk, he could text Hyojong. Or maybe Shinwon.

_If you’re sitting with someone you know in a waiting room, you must always try to hold a conversation, Wooseokie._ His mother’s memory-voice said. _It’s only polite_.

Good old Mrs. Jung. Always ready with the advice.

“So,” he started. Hopefully whatever was about to slide out of his brain was suitable for polite conversation.

“D’you ever think about porn?”

Nope. Sorry, Mum.

Yuto gave him the grew-two-more-eyes look again. “Like, outside of when I’m _watching_ porn?”

The train had left the station. May as well stay on board, even though it was clearly heading straight for a chasm. “Just, y’know. During the day.” _Please don’t ask me why._ He sent out a silent plea to the universe to let him catch a break. _P-l-e-a-s-e._

“No?” Yuto answered, tone careful, drawing the syllable out. _Noooo?_ “Why?”

Fuck the universe. Talking to the attractive Japanese guy from down the hall about porn in a hospital waiting room. That was what Wooseok’s life was.

“Funny story.” Wooseok laughed a laugh that sounded incredibly fake, even to him.

Where was the doctor? Shouldn’t the doctor have come by now?

The offending party looked intrigued, for some godforsaken reason. Wooseok swallowed a despairing noise. _Please don’t ask me what the story is._

“Well?” Yuto asked.

_Fuck_ the universe. Fuck it, right up its black hole of an asshole.

“Those ones where… people… in the bathroom.” Wooseok grimaced. “Those.”

Yuto stared at him for a long, _long_ moment, uncomprehending. Then it was as if a lightbulb switched on in his brain, and he stared at Wooseok some more.

He felt like he should say something. “So, uh… Yeah.”

He wouldn’t be winning any awards for eloquence, but at least it was _something_.

“Wait, wait.” Yuto held a hand up. “Let me get this straight.”

He paused, and a grin flickered briefly on his face. “Or gay, as it were.”

Wooseok scowled at him. “Don’t rub it in.”

The grin returned, and stayed. “The first thing you thought, when I showed up asking to use your shower, was ‘oh, there’s porn about this.’ That’s really what went through your mind?”

“Keep your voice down.” Wooseok hissed. “People can hear you.”

A nearby teenager with her arm in a sling ducked her head, shoulders shaking as she stifled her laughter.

“You started it,” Yuto said at the same volume. “You’re the one who imagined me sucking your dick in your bathroom.”

“When did I say that?” Wooseok asked, giving up. If the other people in the waiting room didn’t want to hear this conversation, they could tune it out. “Did I ever specify that I wanted you to suck my dick in my bathroom? No, I did not.”

“You totally do.” Yuto laughed. “Subconsciously. Why else would you have been thinking about it?”

“Okay, Sigmund Freud.” Wooseok snorted. “Whatever beats your meat.”

“A long time romantic partner, preferably.”

“Oh my god, shut _up._ ”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Coffee?”

“What?”

“Coffee. To make up for the lunch that your shower made me miss.”

“…Fine.”

**Author's Note:**

> me: wooyu is the best ship  
> also me: takes nearly a year to write for 'the best ship'
> 
> i summarised this in my phone notes before writing it as "You came over to use my shower because yours is broken and you slipped in the tub and hurt yourself and now I have to help you get out so I can take you to the hospital and you’re naked and oh god where do I put my hands. Also please don’t sue me"


End file.
